Marcel is not what we call'
An intellectual
Marcel, Marcel
When I call him'
I call him Marcel
L ' doesn't answer, but he approaches
With his left gait
And we can see
In his eyes
Comm 'a' glimmer of intelligence
He knows what I want
He's not that stupid
He knows it's his strong athletic body ¨
I put my hand on his big arm that
Did it happen to me that it tilted
He whispered the curious refrain to me
Hey, here's some blood sausage
And then rolling the R's
Oh, the big simpleton
He said to me I'm going to make you
The famous trick of the Legionnaire'
And warm sand
In the Foreign Legion
I like his happy character
All his business
And that's why
I say that love
Even without love
It's still Soul of love
Understands who can or understands who wants
Those who believe that my Marcel
Ã*a is only a manual
They know nothing
br/>It's not just his hands that do things well
And besides, I don't have the time to know who
Marcel is
Because my Marcel
He harasses me
Marcel harasses me
Marcel harasses me
It's as if he had guessed what I I want
I would even say that he has such a vigorous appetite
That I would sometimes swear that he has divided
That he has divinely
Does whatever needs to be done for my cunt
Yes, my contentment
He knows what I want
He's not that stupid
He knows that it's his vigorous athletic body
I like his happy character
All his business, and that's why
br/>I say that love
Even without love
It's still love
It understands who can or understands who wants

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